Heather Carr-Rowe

Stars in Our Eyes

It can be said
that all love
starts like a star
     -atoms collide-
stars in our eyes burn
until gravitational pull
puts our feet firmly on the ground
     -stars collapse-
perhaps, not all love
is like the death of a star

Dead Flowers Rise Again

from sadness,
let spring
rise from the darkness,
sprout seeds from remembrance,
that sunflowers
shall shine once more


          slivers of moonlight
shimmer between dancing leaves


moonlight masks


crystal blue

The Messenger

A mourning dove
visited me one day.
He did not coo,
much to my pleasure,
he bobbed his head
walked about the garden
as we once did.


Heather Carr-Rowe is an educator and tree lover living on the prairies. In her spare time, she loves to hike, weave, embroider, and write poetry inspired by nature. You can read more of Heather’s poetry at her blog, Sgeoil. This is her first feature on The Short of It.


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